


(100) Days of Erin Gilbert

by holtzghostgirl



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: 500 Days of Summer AU, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Holtzbert - Freeform, Inspired by a Movie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 18:47:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8338711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holtzghostgirl/pseuds/holtzghostgirl
Summary: This is a story of girl meets girl.The first girl, Jillian Holtzmann of Sea Cliff, New York, grew up believing that she’d never truly be happy until the day she found the one. This belief stemmed from early exposure to cheesy 80s pop music, and the constant mantra provided by her mother, that the very purpose of life itself is to love. The second girl, Erin Gilbert of Canandaigua, New York, did not share this belief. Since the disintegration of her parent’s marriage she had only loved two things. The first was the field of physics. The second was how easily she could become absorbed in it, and ignore the way that life seemed so fond of repeatedly kicking her in the guts. This is a story of girl meets girl.But before they do. You should know up front, this is not your average love story.     (A Holtzbert (500) Days of Summer AU with a few extra twists. Hopefully should be complete in two parts.)





	

This is a story of girl meets girl.

The first girl, Jillian Holtzmann of Sea Cliff, New York, grew up believing that she’d never truly be happy until the day she found the one. 

This belief stemmed from early exposure to cheesy 80s pop music, and the constant mantra provided by her mother, that the very purpose of life itself is to love. 

The second girl, Erin Gilbert of Canandaigua, New York, did not share this belief. 

Since the disintegration of her parent’s marriage she had only loved two things. The first was the field of physics.

The second was how easily she could become absorbed in it, and ignore the way that life seemed so fond of repeatedly kicking her in the guts. 

This is a story of girl meets girl.

But before they do. You should know up front, this is not your average love story. 

 

(80)

Abby and Patty open the front door; their faces are painted with concern. 

They are Holtzmann’s best friends, and they also happen to share a home with her.

Abby works with Holtzmann at the scientific research centre downtown, they rent a loft together above an old banged up Chinese place that seems to perpetually be short of wantons (much to Abby’s dismay).

It isn’t glamorous, but the arrangement works.

Patty is an MTA worker who responded to the ad for the spare room the others had placed in the paper. It would not take long for her to naturally settle in and become a permanent fixture in their lives.

There was a kind of equilibrium to their vaguely fried rice scented abode that was best left undisturbed. Apparently, Erin Gilbert had not received the memo.

“I didn’t know who else to call,” says Abby, as she ushers the tall ridiculously model-esque blonde man inside.

He removes his motorcycle helmet and nods grimly. There is an uncharacteristically plain acceptance to his typically carefree face.

“You did the right thing. Where is she?” He says, in a distinctively Aussie accent. The woman only has to point a wary finger across the loft before he sees for himself.

Holtzmann is sitting on the tiled floor of their shabby kitchen area, her back against a cupboard. She is clutching a red tube of original Pringles to her chest and staring at the white wall with the blank slightly frenzied stare of a woman scorned.

“She’s been like this for four hours now,” Patty tells the man as he moves across to her. His frown deepens at that, and he removes a pair of glasses from his pocket and puts them on in a business-like fashion, they have no lenses. 

“Hey Jillian.” He says gently, as if talking to a small nervous animal or child.

The engineer blink slowly, and looks up towards the voice, confused for a brief moment before recognition sets in. 

“Kevin? What are you doing here?” Her voice has a slight croak to it, and speaking has broken the almost evangelical zeal of silence that has lingered over her for the last few hours. Her mouth feels dry and thick.

Kevin is Holtzmann’s previously long lost cousin from Australia. He’s been living with her family for the last four years whilst also pursuing a modelling career in the states. 

At first she found him mainly annoying, particularly with his tendency to be incapable of basic tasks and puppy-like determination to be constantly cheerful. 

But after a while, her reluctance to like Kevin had fallen flat.

They seemed to get each other despite having barely anything in common. Against all odds, it was Kevin that she would find herself turning to most often when things fell flat in her love life.

His child-like ability to see things simply making him a source of comfort to her otherwise highly complicated mind. 

“I’m here to help.” Kevin is telling her now, and she only wishes that he could. The thought makes Holtzmann makes a low groaning sound that for all the world resembles that of a building about to collapse.

“Help me how?” The pitifully morose woman mumbles, and even Kevin is taken aback at how bad things must be. 

None of them have ever seen her this bad. Holtzmann can be prone to the dramatic, but usually only for comic effect. This is textbook heartbreak.

He has quickly realised that Abby and Patty certainly weren’t exaggerating the extent of her reaction to whatever has gone down.

“First, you have to let go of the Pringles,” he instructs slowly, and Holtzmann obliges, as if someone is holding her at gunpoint. She glances at her salty parabolas paternally, as if contemplating whether they’ll be ok without her.

“Good,” Kevin interjects her thought, “now come and sit on the sofa with us.”

She reluctantly moves to follow him to the worn brown sofa, Patty perches on one end and Abby sits in the battered armchair beside it. This looks very much like an intervention.

But Abby and Patty are already both a little relieved, at least, that their friend has shown signs of life once again.

“The key is to stay calm.” Abby states, as always she is level-headed in a time of crisis, but her concern is also clear.

“Does Mom know you’re here?” the blonde splutters into life, the complete opposite of calm as she looks to her cousin, lines around her eyes creasing in stress, “God, she’s gonna think the worst…”

Kevin pats her shoulder coaxingly.

“Don’t worry about that,” he reassures, asserting the fact that he can deal with it for her, “just start from the beginning. Tell us what happened.”

There is a moment where they all seem to wait, watching Holtzmann with bated breath. 

Something inside her cracks, like a floodgate, and she knows everything is about to start pouring out.

Whether she likes it or not.

There’s a sigh, and then a deep shaky breath.

 

(1)

She’s in the lab, the date is May 30th and she has just had a major freaking breakthrough. 

Holtzmann and Abby are dancing around almost delirious with joy. They’ve been working on this one for weeks and now finally, finally, it looks like it’s going to work out.

After a while, they hear someone coming up the stairs and they assume it’s the delivery guy with their Chinese takeout.

Holtzmann is glad because she’s ravenous.

“I hope you come baring wantons Benny.” Abby calls towards the door.

“Abby Yates, eternal optimist.” 

Holtzmann is snickering at her from her seat, still a little giddy with good news.

It’s not the takeout, much to ladies’ initial disappointment. 

Instead, in drifts a woman who is all wrapped up in a tight mousey brown kind of formality and matching skirt, like a foreign and unexpected breeze. This is the first time Holtzmann will ever see Erin. 

It’s like somebody slaps the relaxed playful grin right off her face.

She’s not sure what it is but something about the visitor makes her blue eyes go wide, and she sits bolt upright, staring. 

From that moment on, she can't seem to snatch her eyes away from the guest.

That hair. That blouse. That teeny tiny bow tie.

The chemical reactions in her brain are catalysed triple-fold. She’s never seen anyone like this woman. Ever.

Abby is scowling, and Holtzmann can’t understand why, until the other woman speaks and all it becomes crushingly and embarrassingly obvious. 

She is surprised she hadn’t recognised her sooner, from the picture in the book. But supposes a couple years have passed since it was taken.

“Abby, I’m um—here to talk about the book. I was really serious when I asked you not to put it up for sale, at least, not whilst I’m applying for tenure.” 

She stammers uncomfortably throughout the whole thing, despite clearly trying to hold it together. 

Erin Gilbert. Dammit Holtzmann is slow today. This is the Erin Gilbert, book and Abby abandoner extraordinaire. She looks so freaking nervous to be there (and she has good reason).

“Yeah, well I was serious when I agreed to write a book with you and you threw that back in my face, so boo-hoo.”

And now Holtzmann knows she’s not supposed to like the new woman at all, or even want to look at her longer than it takes to give her a disparaging glare. 

Yet these facts somehow make her all the more enticing. Her mind is pulsing with the unexpected shock of energy that seems to have flooded the lab.

Abby leads Erin out of the room to talk, and she has barely even acknowledged the engineer’s existence beyond the briefest of glances.

But Holtzmann watches her go with an expression like she’s just cracked a whole new equation, all on her own.

 

(3)

Abby and Erin have struck some kind of deal, whereby Erin will help them out with the research they theorised about in the book, in exchange for the book being withheld from sale until she secures her tenure.

It will actually really help out their project a lot, Erin is the only other person with enough knowledge about their highly niche field of study. 

Which makes sense, given that she and Abby founded it themselves. 

This arrangement could really help with the new breakthrough, but Abby is understandably less than thrilled about it. 

Holtzmann, on the other hand, has read the book a thousand times. She’s actually pretty excited to really meet the other person behind, what she feels, is something truly remarkable. 

The engineer has also have begun indulging one or two fantasies about their guest.

Fantasies that veer on the dangerously optimistic side of life.

Like maybe Erin could be really special. 

Which is crazy because Holtzmann has never been that person before, despite all her sappy ideals about love. But that first electrifying sighting had almost enough to convince her.

She shakes off the feeling like dog drying off its coat from the rain. 

Abby and Holtzmann are eating takeout after work that evening, for the second day in a row.

“So, what do I need to know about Dr Gilbert?” the engineer asks with a carefully composed casual interest, leaning back in her desk chair as she picks at a noodle with her chopsticks.

“Who?” Abby huffs purposefully, rummaging through the carrier of food, as if the name alone makes her mad.

“You know who Abby.”

There’s a pause, Abby looks her dead in the eye.

“She’s a bitch from hell.”

Holtzmann splutters slightly and covers it up with a smirk.

“Yah, Patty said you were still pretty cut up over her,” she quirks an eyebrow thoughtfully, unable to let it go, “but you used to be the best of friends, right?”

Abby is glaring at her so-called wanton soup and the measly single wanton floating at the bottom of it. Up until now, they have never really discussed Erin beyond the fact that she left.

She’s always been a source of mystery to the blonde engineer.

“Oh come on! Again. Why can’t they just give me a good amount of wantons. Is that too much to ask?”

It is quite clear that Abby is still really hurt by the whole scenario, and reluctant to talk. This is probably quite reasonable of her, but still her friend persists. 

“Maybe she was just really afraid, of all the criticism,” says Holtzmann, refusing to let the topic slide into wanton troubles just yet, “I mean, she totally stabbed you in the back and that is inexcusable—“

And yet here she is trying to excuse her, she hesitates, for a moment, before speaking again.

“But people do like to crap all over us, just for being different. Maybe some people aren’t as good at ignoring ‘em as we are.”

The engineer just doesn’t understand why someone wouldn’t have a really good reason for walking away from something like this. Someone as awesome as Abby.

“Yeah, or maybe she's some snooty, better than everyone, friend abandoner.” Abby replies, tossing her soup carton in the trash as she does, and mentally vowing to call in and complain yet again later. 

“That stuff shouldn’t matter. I was there for her, a hundred percent, and she threw it back in my face... like hot, wanton-less, soup. That hurts.”

Holtzmann can’t help but think that for a woman constantly capable of forgiving the Chinese takeout people for their lack of wantons, enough to re-order them constantly, she sure seems unwilling to give her old friend even one shot at forgiveness.

Of course, she can also do nothing but feel sympathy with Abby, Erin sounds like she was a complicated person to handle at the best of times.

But maybe, she thinks, complicated people just need a little more figuring out. She and Abby aren’t exactly perfect either.

These thoughts are getting slightly out of hand.

“Ugh. You know what? Screw her. We’ve barely even met, and I can’t stand her already,” Holtzmann snaps, in a clear effort to cheer Abby up and maybe to persuade herself too. 

At least, it will be much more straightforward if she automatically dislikes Erin. She certainly has reason to, and so Holtzmann decides, in that moment, that it is the approach she needs to take.

 

(4)

The next day Holtzmann is in the elevator on her way into the lab. She’s got a set of blueprints in her hands and is reading over them. 

Erin enters the elevator one floor up from where she did. She’s wearing another tiny bow tie and a beige jacket, skirt and kitten heel combo.

There is silence for a moment and Holtzmann puts on a show to ignore her. Her eyes glued to the blueprints to ensure they don’t wander.

Despite this clear ‘do not disturb’ sign, Erin is looking over her shoulder, curiously.

“Woah sorry uh, is that from one of my chapters?” She blurts out, cheeks flushing with the faintest hint of colour at the prospect.

Holtzmann, pretending not to care, realises that the design is, in fact, inspired by Erin’s work, and gives a vague grunt of a ‘yes’ in response.

“I never thought I’d actually see blueprints for that stuff,” Erin adds, still looking with a touch of awe to her voice that one could potentially call endearing.

Holtzmann finally looks at her properly, their eyes naturally meet, and she tries to steady herself a little after she does.

“Sorry?” She says, even though she heard her the first time.

“I said, I never thought I’d see viable plans for that stuff. It was all so theoretical. These look great. You’re really talented.”

There’s a beat as the engineer processes this information. She pretends she isn’t at all flattered, but she is incredibly flattered.

Erin Gilbert is pretty much a genius by her standards. She’s always admired her parts of the book.

“I don’t believe we were introduced,” Erin adds awkwardly, she has this shy smile that makes Holtzmann doubt every bad thing she’s ever heard about the woman all over again, “what’s your name?”

Holtzmann cracks a hint of a grin. She can’t help it. That blush is ridiculous and sweet.

“Holtzmann.” She slides her yellow goggles into her hair and offers a hand to shake.

Erin takes it, her smile relaxing somewhat at the friendly gesture.

Holtzmann dejectedly wonders why this woman, who seems so unassumingly pleasant, had to be the one that betrayed Abby. Her best friend in the world.

That fact could only make life more complicated than it needed to be.

“I’m Erin,” the physicist replies, and Holtzmann nods, she obviously already knows that.

“I’ve heard terrible things about you.” She remarks, and maybe her tone is just the tiniest bit more playful than it is sincere. 

Erin is clearly surprised and set a little on edge by the comment. Holtzmann feels a twisted kind of pride at that.

She winks at Erin, just as the elevator pings for their floor.

 

(5)

Abby leaves the lab to get a coffee. Things have been painfully tense for the last day and a half.

She still hasn’t said more than four words to Erin yet, and the woman in question has looked terribly awkward for the entire time she’s been around.

Holtzmann does feel a little sorry for her.

In Abby’s absence she also feels less guilty about making an attempt at conversation. Erin looks relieved just to be addressed, their brief encounter in the elevator clearly not enough to deter her.

They can’t go on like this, Holtzmann reasons, it will drive them all insane.

“Hi.” 

“Hello.” There’s a small lull after that. As if neither knows quite what to say.

“So, uh, Erin...”

“Holtzmann.”

“Right, how long have you worked here?”

Holtzmann is tinkering with a piece of equipment, for no reason other than to seem busier than she is.

“Oh, you know, 4, 5... years.”

Erin looks baffled at that, the institute is hardly a factory for success and people rarely stay too long there after they graduate. Particularly not people with doctorates.

“Really?” She tries to sound interested and non-judgmental, but Holtzmann maybe catches a whiff of it in her tone, “How comes?”

“Well, I guess I just like it. The people don’t judge us so much here.” The engineer is now clearly defensive. “It has everything we need.”

Erin senses a need to lighten the tone. She looks around the scruffy lab with a nod.

“I mean it’s a perfectly adequate space.” She teases, ever so gently, testing the water. 

“Hey, that’s what they all used to call me in college, perfectly adequate.” Holtzmann cannot resist quipping back, smirk pulling at her lips as she takes a sip of water from her bottle.

“They used to call me "Anal Girl."” Responds Erin, un-ironically deadpan, lost in thought for a moment.

Holtzmann splutters and nearly chokes on her water. Erin awkwardly realises, too late, how that sounds.

“I was very neat and organized.” She explains hastily.

There's yet another awkward silence. For the first time ever, apparently, Jillian Holtzmann is too stunned to make a witty retort. 

“Anyway, I should let you get on with your work.” Erin flusters uncomfortable for a moment, that creeping pinkish flush crawling up her neck and across her cheeks again.

Holtzmann almost finds herself protesting, and then she hears Abby returning down the hall, so she settles on watching the way Erin hurries back to her segregated corner at the back of the room. 

Enamoured. 

Her mind racing at the chances of her somehow straightening things out between the old friends. She naively believes they can somehow make this work. 

 

(79)

Erin and Holtzmann are sitting in a diner at 9pm, they’re ordering pancakes after a trip to the movies. 

For the last couple weeks Holtzmann has been feeling like a woman on top of the world.

“This thing. This whatever it is. You and me. Do you think this is normal?” Erin asks, unassumingly, right out of the blue. 

Holtzmann’s blissful positivity is knocked hard as she feels the first hints of doubt, like that first grey cloud rolling in before a storm.

“I don't know. Who cares about normal?! I'm happy. Aren’t you?”

There’s a weighted pause.

“Mhm.” Erin mumbles. The waitress brings their pancakes and they tuck in, Holtzmann has no desire to pursue the conversation any further. 

They’re walking home, after a slightly more-awkward-than-usual meal. 

Holtzmann is chattering away obliviously trying to mask the uncomfortable feeling settling in the pit of her stomach, when Erin decides to let out the thought that has been bubbling under her surface for days now. 

She stares down at the pavement for a solid moment before she gains the courage to speak.

It’s like Abby all over again. Only worse because with Abby it was about the book, but this time she’s the problem.

Maybe she was always the problem.

“I think we should stop seeing each other.” She can’t meet the other woman’s eyes longer than a second.

Holtzmann is stunned into a momentary silence. Shocked despite the earlier hints at trouble.

“I don’t think this is working out. I think you need someone more secure than me, I…”

“No.” Holtzmann says bluntly.

“No?” Echoes Erin, her voice is hollow.

“You don’t just get to say that. Not after everything we’ve been through.” 

Holtzmann is angry, it takes her a moment to realise it but she’s really, very, angry.

Things were going so well.

“Let’s just go inside and talk,” Erin has no idea what to do, but her apartment is only a few feet away and she yearns for the comfort and familiarity of its surroundings, “I think you might understand things better if we talk about this.”

Holtzmann looks at her in disgust. As if Erin has just thrown a bag of puppies into a river. She turns away sharply and takes off down the street. Without another word.

“Holtzmann, don’t. Come back. We can still be best fr—”

 

(80)

“Jesus.”

“That’s harsh.”

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” The engineer groans.

“You’re gonna be fine.” Abby states.

“I think I’m gonna puke.” Holtzmann mutters. 

“Or there’s that.” Abby responds, with a resigned shrug.

Patty makes to get a bucket.

Kevin holds up a hand to stop her, he fumbles in his pocket and remove a hip flask before pouring some light golden brown liquid into a glass on the coffee table, that he then hands to Holtzmann. 

“Drink it.”

“What is that?” Patty asks, although she could probably take a wild guess.

“Whiskey. Australia’s best medicine.” 

Holtzmann grimaces as the alcohol burns her throat, but she doesn’t stop drinking. Patty raises her eyebrows.

“Should we be letting her drink that, given her… condition?” 

The engineer has already drained the glass, and she puts it down on the coffee table with a dull thud.

“More.” She orders groggily, and Kevin obliges.

Patty makes to protest again, but decides Holtz can have one more before she puts her foot down. 

This whole God damn thing is already a train wreck anyway.

 

(17)

Holtzmann is visiting at her Mom’s place, lounging back on the sofa playing on her old Mega Drive with Kevin.

“And it turns out she's read every one of the old Wonder Woman comics too. She’s got this really cool collectors copy because her dad was always trying to get her into it as a kid.”

“Your favourites.” Remarks Kevin, a little sceptically as he blasts the head off of yet another zombie.

“It's insane how much I like Erin. Seriously! It doesn't make sense; she's not like I thought at all. She's... amazing.” She tucks an escaped blonde curl back behind her ear.

“Oh boy.”

Kevin hits pause on the game and Holtzmann frowns in confusion. 

“What?”

“You know...just cause some cute girl likes the same bizzaro crap you do it doesn't make her "the one."

Holtzmann shrugs, nonchalantly.

“Particularly when said girl has already taken a dump all over Abby’s feelings.”

“Jeez, Kevin, I know.” She insists, unconvincingly. 

 

(19)

Holtzmann and Erin are going to dinner in Little Italy. One of her mom’s old friends owns the place she has chosen. 

When she walks in Holtzmann is only a little embarrassed by the huge hug and sloppy kiss on the cheek she receives from the old Italian lady. Who loudly proclaims, how, when they last met, she was only as tall as her waist.

Erin giggles lightly at that, and beams in a way that says she approves of the setting. Holtzmann quickly forgets her self-consciousness.

They sit at a table with a red and white checked tablecloth. There’s a candle and the place is otherwise quite dimly lit, Holtzmann orders spaghetti and meatballs, subconsciously fulfilling some kind of Lady and the Tramp quota in her mind.

Supposedly, they’re here to discuss the Abby situation. 

At least, that was the excuse this time. It’s their fourth dinner together in the last two weeks.

There is, undeniably, something between them. 

Erin clearly has the potential to like her, on more than just friendly terms.

Holtzmann thinks. Hopes.

“I think she’s warming back up to ya,” says Holtzmann, taking a sip from her beer in thought, condensation from the bottle cool on her fingers, “yesterday I noticed how you guys talked like five whole times. That’s pretty much a new record.”

Things have still between quite dismal in the lab, but at least the silent treatment is over. That was truly the worst, like sitting in a dentists waiting room full of anxious strangers about to get their teeth removed, but somehow more tense.

Erin sighs and runs a finger along the edge of her wine glass. Holtzmann’s expression sobers slightly as she shuffles her seat up closer to the table.

“I don’t think she has to forgive me, if she doesn’t want to because I can totally understand why she wouldn’t—but I guess after I apologised the other day, I thought maybe…” Erin’s eyes are big and sad and puppyish.

The engineer can’t stand it. There’s no way this woman deserves the cold-shoulder after her incredibly sincere and reasonably humiliating apology a few days back. 

It was, quite frankly, painful to witness. Even she was a little surprised by Abby’s resolve. 

“Abby’ll come round,” Holtzmann assures her gently, a reassuring hand patting the one Erin has laid on the table, there’s a warmth that comes with her touch that makes her not want to pull it away again, but she dutifully begins to, “trust me.”

And Erin finds that she does trust Holtzmann, as she gazes at the other woman in the warm candlelit restaurant. Her grey checked waistcoat and neck tie suggest a faux kind of formality that fits nicely with her relaxed character. 

Erin’s hand catches onto her cool fingers, before they are fully removed from her reach.

She can trust this woman more so than she is usually able to trust people in general, there is something about her earnest gaze and straightforward nature that put Erin right at ease. 

She likes her.

This is a fact she has been noticing more and more of late.

“Thanks.” She says, and there’s that trademark blush.

And this time, she isn’t sure, but she thinks the blonde engineer’s cheeks may be daubed with a similar rosy hue.

Later in the evening Holtzmann will be waiting on the sidewalk for a cab home with Erin, and, when she insists that Erin should take the first one that pulls over, she will also receive a delicate kiss on the cheek. 

Giddily, she will read this and the hand holding as a sign that her own feelings are, in fact, reciprocated. 

She will wink conspiringly at her own reflection in a dirty puddle.

 

(21)

It only takes two more days for Abby to start to forgive Erin, a fact that doesn’t surprise Holtzmann too much. 

Whilst, her friend is great at making a show of her grudges, they never seem to last long. 

Case in point: wanton soup.

However, Holtzmann is sure that Erin is nothing like the wanton soup and its constant pattern of disappointment. 

In Holtzmann’s mind the physicist can do no wrong at all.

She made a one-off mistake because she was scared, but that’s all in the past now.

Erin has this sort of ethereal glow to her, an untouchable quality that makes her want to do nothing but believe in her and everything she stands for.

Holtzmann is visibly changed when they get back to the apartment that evening. 

She’s so happy that Abby is coming back around to the idea of forgiving Erin, that the others start to catch a hint at what may be going on.

Abby and Patty speculate whilst they cook dinner together, listening to the distant sound of Holtzmann singing show tunes in the shower.

“That girl is in love.” Says Patty, “I been seein’ the signs for ages. She’s always sneaking out on mysterious dates… I guessed she’d just got lucky with some girl from Tinder.”

Abby is frowning and drumming her fingers on the counter, as the firsts seeds of a theory start to plant themselves in her mind. 

At first, she doesn’t know whether to be mad or surprised, or if she can even believe it.

“I think it’s Erin.” She says, measuredly, as if she can somehow get a grip on reality if she doesn’t blurt it all out at once. “I think… I think she likes Erin.”

Patty looks up at her in surprise.

“But I thought Erin was, like, straighter than a ruler?”

“I mean I guess she seems it, but I remember she did have a thing for this one girl back in high school…” Abby drifts off, and then something in her snaps. 

“This doesn’t even matter, how can Holtzmann have a thing for Erin?”

Patty shrugs her shoulders and stirs the pasta sauce bubbling away happily on the stovetop. 

“She sure has it bad for someone, that’s all I know.”

Abby has a strong suspicion that she’s right, it would explain how Holtzmann was always so quick to defend the other woman. 

It would explain that new dopey smile she seemed to wear, more often than not, in the lab.

Abby may have started to forgive Erin on her own terms, but she’s not sure she’s ready for any additional drama involving her. She can only hope Holtzmann will heed her warnings.

Erin is a complicated woman, at the best of times.

 

(58)

Holtzmann and Erin are sitting in a park on a picnic blanket. Holtzmann is grinning at the other woman with a wild playfulness in her eyes. Erin is shaking her head.

“That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” She says.

“No it’s not. It’s awesome, trust me. I’m serious.” Holtzmann meets her eyes. “I’ll go first.”

Erin makes a face, but Holtzmann is already glancing around briefly before taking a deep breath.

“Penis.” She says, barely any louder than the volume of their conversation. 

She looks at Erin expectantly and with an incredulous smirk, nudging gently on her shoulder with her head, the physicist caves slightly.

“Penis.” She mumbles, at a volume that is just about audible, but Holtzmann won’t allow her to be so conservative with her game.

“Penis!” There’s a loud and clear emphasis to the word this time. Challenging.

“Penis.” Erin matches her, giving in a little more, Holtzmann chuckles.

“PENIS.” Her voice is the level of a teacher’s first timid call for a class to be quiet.

“There are kids around,” protests Erin self-consciously. Holtzmann scrunches her nose.

“There are no kids around,” she bluffs, as a group run behind them giggling. They ignore the sound.

Oh screw it, thinks Erin, smiling at the other woman in defeat.

“Penis!” She raises her voice.

“Peeeeenis!” Holtzmann bellows.

“Are you having fun?” Asks Erin, and Holtzmann likes the way she’s watching her with such an amused fascination. It makes tiny people in her stomach do cartwheels.

“Yeah,” she says with a nod, “I think I am.”

“Is this the kind of thing you do with all the women you date?” 

This time her stomach does a double flip, but she still retains some semblance of cool.

“Nah I mean, we rarely leave my bedroom most of the time.” She winks salaciously.

Erin rolls her eyes.

“PENIS!!” She yells, even louder than before. Holtzmann is cackling with laughter now, as a group of girls give them a dirty look.

“Sorry, I have Tourette’s, you know how it is.” Erin shrugs apologetically.

“PENIIIIIIIIIS!” Interjects the blonde.

“She has it too.” Erin tries to keep a straight-ish face.

But Holtzmann isn’t done, she beams threateningly before she lets out an almighty battle cry.

“PEEEEENISSSSSS!!”

The other woman hurriedly claps her hand over the other woman’s mouth, they’re both laughing uncontrollably before she sets her free again.

“Are you done?” She asks, between heavy breaths.

Holtzmann nods, suspiciously.

“Yup, I am. Promise.”

Erin nods slowly. Her expression an attempt at being serious. 

Cautious.

“Alright.”

There’s a pause as they both pretend to be totally normal once again. 

“PEEEEEEEEEEEEENISSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!” Holtzmann screams, and then Erin is diving onto her, and they’re collapsing on the picnic blanket with rib-aching laughter punctuated by short sweet kisses.

Erin knows those will keep her quiet, if only for a little while.

 

(62)

Whilst ambling about the city on a lazy afternoon one day, Holtzmann and Erin somehow end up in the showrooms of a nearby Ikea.

Holtzmann reclines on a beige display sofa with a loudly contented sigh.

“Home sweet home.” She puts her arms behind her head.

Erin perches on the edge beside her, like the perfect image of a 1950s housewife.

“Yes, our place really is lovely, isn’t it?” She drawls.

Holtzmann nods and mumbles a droll ‘yes’.

They sit for a moment and stare at the blank TV.

“Well I’m just starving,” she remarks briskly, getting up and offering a hand to Erin, “what’s for dinner honey?”

The brunette laughs softly, she’s never been so unconcerned about whether anyone is watching her before. 

This is fun.

“Let’s check the fridge.” She says as they arrive in a display kitchen, and she moves across to open the doors of the silver refrigerator.

There’s a solo fake apple on the warm shelf. She removes it with flourish and hands it to Holtzmann who takes it gladly.

“My favourite!”

“Only the best for you dear… Oh! let me fix you a drink.” Erin moves to the sink and twists the handle. She turns back, all mock surprised pout with hands on her hips.

In her element now. Holtzmann adores it.

“Our sink is broken.”

The engineer fake frowns, and then swiftly gets up with a gesture towards the doorway.

“Well, that’s ok, I guess that’s why we bought a home with two kitchens.” She raises her brows proudly, and they’re clearly both loving the game.

Erin smiles, and swings into her, holding briefly onto the straps of her overalls.

“You’re so smart,” she breathes dramatically, their lips nearly touching, and just as Holtzmann thinks they might kiss, she swings to veer away, “—I’ll race you to the bedroom.”

And with that Erin is skipping off through the showrooms leading Holtzmann chuckling along behind her.

She can’t believe there’s a whole other side to Erin, and it seems, dare she even think it, almost as if it’s reserved entirely for her.

In another display area for bedrooms Erin is already lounging on a bed when she arrives, and Holtzmann wastes no time following her in climbing up the length of it.

Propping up on her elbows over the other woman for a moment, they share a gaze.

This is love, Holtzmann suddenly thinks. Noting the minute freckles around Erin’s eyes and the tiny creases at the sides of her nose.

The thought surprises her more than it should do, because she’s probably known that this entire time but somehow the words hadn’t formed so clearly in her mind until now.

The intensity increases, and then the engineer’s expression falls into an incredibly sincere one.

She’s almost tempted to tell her.

“Darling, I don’t know how to tell you this but…”

She hears rustling and glances sideways briefly.

“There’s a Chinese family in our bathroom.” 

They both slowly turn their heads to see the mother, father, and three children staring at them blankly from the en suite area.


End file.
